Act Your (Spiritual) Age

"The Warrior of the Light behaves like a child.

People are shocked; they have forgotten that a child needs to have fun and to play, to be slightly irreverent and to ask awkward, childish questions, to talk nonsense that not he believes in.

And they say, horrified, "So this is the spiritual path, is it? He's so immature!"

The Warrior feels proud of such comments. And he remains in touch with God through his innocence and his joy, without ever losing sight of his mission."

-Paulo Coelho-

...a fitting quote for this past week in the life o' O. Mahoney

Good things come from good protests

Check out what my brother was up to during the writers' strike this past year.

...and we all thought he was just gambling away his unemployment checks!

Be sure to watch ALL the episodes!

When reality hits you like a ton of bricks...

It always comes back to T.S., doesn't it?

T minus two months until the big move out West and, for perhaps the first time ever, the girl without forethought has realized that life is about to change, that she has fallen in love with place and people, and that she is leaving them behind in pursuit of the unknown.

I may have posted this at least 5 or 6 times already, but it seems that when you're the sort who can't quite sit still for a great length of time, it is always the time of dying and rebirth. I leave it to T.S. to tell you what this past week has felt like, but I hope that he is wrong and that, in this case, I can turn again.

from "ash-wednesday"
by t.s. eliot

Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and...
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And I pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again...

Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still...

Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross...
And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices...
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel...
Quickens to recover And the blind eye creates...
And smell renews...

This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross...

Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still...

Map My Meghan

So, I "often" write about my runs, which fuel my day with beauty and contemplation, so perhaps I'll start including the maps, too...at least it's one consistent thing that could keep me blogging. Here's one from yesterday: